Arrives makes it sound like they’re going to be delivered by a stork. Such a pretty picture. I’ve made the mistake oflooking at some videos of people giving birth and I must admit, it doesn’t look pleasant. I phoned Freya about it because she’s really honest about things like that and she said it wasn’t that bad, bloody awful, but she was that fed up of being pregnant she was willing to go through labour just to not be carting a bump round anymore.
I’m not looking forward to not being able to see my feet. I’ve actually started photos of them so I can remember what they look like. Weird, I know.
You did draw me a family tree a few weeks ago when you were telling me about Ava and Eli and how he’s Elijah and not Elias, but we couldn’t consider any names that started with E-L-I because it was going to get too confusing. A shame, because I like the name Ellie, but you’re right, we need something more unusual.
We could go for a Welsh name, maybe?
Anyway, I’m off to sleep because we’re up early tomorrow for a dawn shoot, and after that, I’m done. I’ll be on that plane the day after and I can tend to your balls.
Love you,
Iris
Dear Iris,
If I’ve timed this right, but I probably haven’t, you’re getting this just before your flight takes off.
For the next few hours I’ll be watching that website that charts planes in real time, looking at exactly where you are and completely shitting myself that something will happen to your flight. I’ll be doing it from Manchester Airport, because I’m already there waiting for you.
Sad, I know. But in case you were early I wanted to be here.
I used to miss you between seeing you, but it was different. I’d wish you were around more so we could talk or grab a bite to eat or I could give you a hug when you weren’t feeling great. Because I’m used to you being around all the time, you being away has been awful.
I’m not trying to guilt you. We both have jobs that mean we have to be away from home, like a lot of people do, and we knew when we decided to get pregnant that we’d arrange our work so one of us was always at home with our baby.
New suggestion, we travel together until they’re school age, because I’m not sure I like being away from you for this long. My balls have actually written a letter of complaint.
I’m saving it for you for when you get home – the letter from my balls, that is.
I miss you sleeping next to me. I miss the trail of stuff you leave around the house. I miss your very off key singing when you’re making a cup of tea. I miss your scent and how it fills the room.
I miss fucking you when one of us wakes up in the middle of the night and we just want to be close to each other.
And the orgasms.
I can’t wait to get you home and I can re-explore every inch of your skin with my tongue. I can’t wait to have my hands on your tits again and play with them until your pussy’s dripping and you’re trying not to beg me to fuck you.
I keep imagining you on all fours, holding onto the bed sheets or the back of the sofa while I fuck you from behind, using my hand to play with your clit so you keep squeezing my dick while you come over and over again. I love how pink your cheeks get when I’m filling you up, how you say my name when you want me to go quicker and how good you are at sucking my cock when you need a break from coming so hard.
I hope you enjoy thinking about that during your flight.
Love you,
Gully
As predicted, I was met by a hurricane of a woman who wanted to rip me to shreds given what I’d written in my last letter and she’d managed to download just before her flight took off.
As predicted, we found a very quiet country road and made good use of the back seat of my car, thankful for the tinted windows before we’d even exchanged more than about four sentences with each other.
Her flight had been fine in principal, but she’d worn light coloured sweatpants which had gotten a bit wet, so she’d felt self-conscious, uncomfortable and horny all at the same time, so I was on the receiving end of her temper and her frustration which was actually a pretty fucking good combination.
I’d had two days at home without her after I’d come back from London, finding my house too big without her and generally being a pain in the arse with my brothers because I needed to be distracted.
I’d missed her. Which I’d told her, not just by letter, but over text and on the phone too. Maybe it was too much, maybe I’d been too strong and I’d need to use my words and ask her about that because I had no gauge for being in a relationship and my brothers were fucking useless at this stuff.
I did mention it to Freya. She’d smiled and told me I was cute, and that she imagined Iris would be liking me being so obvious about missing her. A day later, she’d told me I should carry on, so I’d figured that maybe Freya had spoken to Iris and I felt even more like a fifteen-year-old lad with no idea whatsoever.
I’d spent half a day walking the coastal path, something I’d done regularly since moving to the island six years ago, thinkingabout my next steps. When we’d been in York, I’d disappeared on my own because I’d had a purchase to make.
